The corridor narrowed.
Walls pressed close, streaked with rust and something darker. The ceiling dripped in slow, uneven drops.
Each sound echoed too far.
Hana walked with her hand brushing the wall, her eyes half-closed. Her breathing was steady.
"She's still ahead," she whispered. "But the signal is… thin."
"Thin how?" Ren asked.
"Like she's being covered. Buried."
Arin moved past her.
The katana at his hip felt heavier.
The lights flickered overhead.
Buzz.
Dark.
Buzz.
Shadows stretched. Then snapped back.
A sound came from ahead.
Metal.
Dragging.
Slow.
Then—
Nothing.
Maya stopped. "Did you hear that?"
Ren raised a hand.
Silence.
They waited.
Nothing came.
They moved.
The corridor opened into a wider space.
A loading bay.
Crates stacked high. Chains hanging loose. Dust unmoving.
And in the center—
A figure.
Slumped against a crate.
Too still.
Maya stepped forward. "Maybe they're—"
Arin caught her arm.
"Wait."
The figure didn't breathe.
But its fingers twitched.
Hana's voice trembled. "I can't feel anything. No thoughts. No presence."
A pause.
"Nothing."
Arin stepped closer.
The figure's head turned.
Slow.
Its eyes were open.
Too wide.
Dark veins crawled beneath pale skin, shifting slowly… like something moving where it shouldn't.
It looked at him.
And stopped.
Everything about it changed.
Not aggression.
Not confusion.
Fear.
Its body pressed back against the crate—too fast, too sudden—like something inside it had screamed before it could.
Its fingers clawed at the floor.
Not attacking.
Retreating.
Trying to get away.
"Arin…" Hana whispered. "What is it doing?"
He didn't answer.
Because he felt it too.
Something inside him—
Responding.
Watching.
The figure's mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Its jaw trembled.
Its body jerked—
Once.
Twice.
Its back arched violently.
The veins beneath its skin flared darker, pulsing fast—too fast.
Its arm lifted suddenly—
Not toward them—
But toward its own chest.
Like it was trying to stop something inside itself.
Ren moved.
"Back."
His katana flashed into his hand.
The figure lunged.
Wrong.
Unstable.
Its limbs didn't move together. Its body lagged behind its motion.
Arin stepped forward—
But it never reached him.
Mid-motion—
It froze.
A wet, broken sound tore from its throat.
Its body seized.
Then—
Collapsed.
Hard.
Still.
Silence.
Heavy.
Final.
Arin stood over it.
His hand rested on his blade.
Maya knelt beside the body, her hands hovering but not touching.
"There's no pulse…" she whispered. "It's just… gone."
Her eyes moved over the veins. The skin.
"What did they do to them?"
Hana stepped back.
"I couldn't feel it," she said. "Not even a trace. It was like… something had hollowed it out."
Ren didn't lower his blade.
"We move."
Arin didn't.
Not immediately.
He looked at the body.
At the way it had moved.
At the way it had—
Stopped.
When it saw him.
It wasn't afraid of the blade.
Or the squad.
It was afraid of him.
Arin turned away.
They moved deeper.
The corridor sloped downward.
The air grew colder.
Thicker.
Like something was waiting.
Hana stopped.
"I can feel her again."
Arin's chest tightened. "Where?"
"Ahead." Her voice dropped. "Faint."
A pause.
"But there's something else."
Ren moved forward, blade ready.
"Alive?"
Hana shook her head slowly.
"Worse."
A low hum began.
Not from the walls.
Not from machines.
From below.
It vibrated through the floor.
Through their feet.
Through their bones.
Arin looked into the darkness ahead.
Hana's hand tightened on his arm.
"Arin…"
Her voice barely held.
"This isn't the worst of it."